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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603450">Hate and Love Both Burn Like Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinconceivabletruth/pseuds/theinconceivabletruth'>theinconceivabletruth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Slyme Slythering Sypent of Aldercrest [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Temeraire - Naomi Novik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Falling In Love, Knight!Laurence, M/M, Medieval Fantasy AU, One-Sided Attraction, half-elf!Tharkay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:42:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinconceivabletruth/pseuds/theinconceivabletruth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As a half-elf, Tenzing Tharkay fits in neither of the societies he was born to. He lives his life on the outskirts. </p><p>The day Sir William Laurence rides into Aldercrest to fight a dragon, Tharkay's life slowly starts to change.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Slyme Slythering Sypent of Aldercrest [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Temeraire Summer Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hate and Love Both Burn Like Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_glow_worm/gifts">the_glow_worm</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One of the_glow_worm's prompts was for "Laurence is a brave knight serving the realm, and Tharkay is a half-elf outcast", so here we are! Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tenzing Tharkay was not, and had never been, in the habit of exchanging gossip and news with the humans of the towns he wandered through. This was for several reasons: the briefness of his visits, the suspicion of the locals, the comfort of his familiar, and the fact asking for gossip usually meant that he himself became gossip. Ultimately, Tharkay just hated people, humans and elves alike. This was not a specific hatred, but a more general one directed at society at large. It was one of the reasons why he wandered. Tharkay knew, however, that his hatred centered more heavily on those who were at the pinnacle of society. He knew he was biased; he had often found his biases to be well-founded in truths. </p><p>This was not to say that when the knight arrived in town, Tharkay was unaware. Though he might distance himself, Tharkay knew the value of good information. He had known a knight would have to arrive soon. An idiot could have guessed. Some basic woodscraft to form a border around the town, and Tharkay <em>felt</em> the knight's entrance, like the sharp snap of a dry branch. </p><p>Aldercrest had already been wearing thin for Tharkay when the baker's boy brought home a dragon egg and managed to induce it to hatch. The resulting spectacle and overblown "terror" of the townsfolk was too amusing to miss. Tharkay <em>may</em> have been the one to loudly make the suggestion that monasteries were filled with the true treasure of knowledge. The sight of a dragonet chasing a shepardess trying to recite bucolic love poetry was the highlight of his year. </p><p>No one had been harmed, as dragonets were not <em>actually</em> hellspawn. This one seemed very mild-mannered, if entirely too curious for its own good. Tharkay was half-tempted to approach the poor thing himself and guide it away, but dragons at this age were particularly impressionable, and being a half-elf in cahoots with a dragon was much worse than being just a half-elf. </p><p>But Tharkay knew people, and he knew their fear best of all, so he stayed around a little longer to ensure whatever "help" the town had called for didn't just charge in and slaughter the dragonet. </p><p>That being said, he had not expected the knight himself to come looking for him. </p><p>"Pardon me, good sir. Would you happen to be Master Tharkay?" </p><p>Broad-shouldered, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed, with a firm jawline and neater clothes than one would expect from a man fresh off the road, the man looked as if he had stepped out of of the stanzas of a ballad. He even had manners for an outcast like Tharkay. Just from looking at the knight, that old hate burned in Tharkay as it was stoked a little higher. The man's attractiveness did not abate it. Chivalry and a fair face hid a myriad of evils. </p><p>"Might I have pleasure of knowing who inquires?" Tharkay watched as the cadence of his own Court accent caught the knight's ear. There was only a slight widening of the eyes and a flick towards Tharkay's own ears. Tharkay might have been impressed if he wasn't certain the gossipmongers had already ratted out his heritage. </p><p>"My apologies - Sir William Laurence, at your service." </p><p>"I should think not. Rather, you are here to procure <em>my</em> services." Tharkay did enjoy it when he was able to put the nobility on the wrong foot. The knight rallied quickly from his momentary loss of words. </p><p>"Just so, then. I've been dispatched by the Court to settle the matter of a dragon troubling these parts. The townsfolk, while quite talkative about the <em>qualities</em> of the creature, do not appear to have any helpful knowledge about the dragon's actual location. It was mentioned that you have considerable skill in hunting and tracking, and I was hopeful that you might be of assistance." </p><p>Well, that was not the phrasing that Tharkay had expected. There was someone else who wasn't quite buying the town's hysterics. "Like all things, that help would have a price." </p><p>"Even in defense of your own home?" the knight returned dryly. Tharkay wondered if he was offended, and tried very hard not to care. </p><p>"You seem to be under the misapprehension that I live here, when in truth I am just passing by," Tharkay corrected him. </p><p>Slate blue eyes looked at him steadily. "Five silver a day for your assistance." </p><p>"Oh, but I must fear for my life when hunting such a dangerous creature. Ten," Tharkay drawled. Now the man looked almost disappointed. Tharkay fought the urge to take back his words. </p><p>"Very well then. Ten it is - and we start now. Gather what you need." </p><p>Tharkay supposed that the faster it was done with, the better. And if the knight should make an unfortunate decision, well, there were many knights who perished hunting dragons. Tharkay would not be party to the murder of an innocent. </p><p>***</p><p>It swiftly became clear that Sir Laurence had no deep knowledge of a dragon's instincts. He had at most some basics from book learning, or he would not be relying so heavily on Tharkay. He made no attempts to take the lead from Tharkay or try to bolster his own ego by turning it into a contest. It was almost refreshing. </p><p>Sir Laurence would have lost; woodscraft was a subtle magic, but it provided an unquestionable edge in the right domain. Tharkay could have found the dragonet with his eyes closed, if he had so desired. A good thing too, because the golden glint of his hair in the dappled sunlight was far more distracting than it should have been. </p><p><em>Mind yourself</em>, Tharkay thought. <em>This man does not trust you, nor do you trust him</em>. That mistrust was evident in Sir Laurence's unwavering attention to his own actions. </p><p>The knight's own actions were on the outer bounds of Tharkay's expectations. He had followed Tharkay into the deep woods wearing only leathers and metal vambraces. For weapons, he had brought along a single sword and knife, and what Tharkay suspected to be a net rolled behind his saddle. Sir Laurence had even deigned to lead his dark grey warhorse behind as he walked, rather than riding above while Tharkay walked. </p><p>Tharkay wished common sense and competence weren't such rare traits. He wouldn't have found it nearly as attractive. </p><p>Eventually, they arrived at the edge of a large clearing surrounding an abandoned guard outpost. A black dragonet splashed about in the stream running through the clearing. Tharkay stopped before they left the concealment of the woods. "There is your dragon, Sir Laurence," he gestured. He planned to fade into the background and observe. If necessary, he would take action. An adult golden eagle in full stoop was nothing to scoff at. </p><p>Before he entered into the clearing, the man turned and looked at him, and for a second Tharkay's breath caught in his throat. "Thank you for your assistance," he said. "And please, call me Laurence."</p><p>The knight - <em>Laurence</em> - walked calmly across the clearing and instead of drawing his sword, he engaged a dragon in conversation. From a distance, he sometimes looked unsure, but never nervous. His stance was steady, but never threatening. </p><p>Through the eyes of an eagle, Tharkay watched a man schooled in violence reach out a hand to the monster he had hunted and caress it gently. Through the ears of a field mouse, he heard a knight gift a dragon a name and call him "my dear." </p><p>With his own heart, Tharkay felt a strange euphoria. It burned like his hate, but it did not distance him. It burned like the warmth of a hearth on a cold night - the kindled hope for someone he could call home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tharkay: Oops now i will follow this man to the ends of the earth to make him fall in love with me. </p><p>(and he does).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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